


bring it on home to you

by thesaddestboner



Series: now's the right time for a good song [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Detroit Red Wings, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Perspective Shift Remix, San Jose Sharks, Subtext, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Tension, mention of family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Could a year apart really have changed them so much?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	bring it on home to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/gifts).



> Perspective shift remix of the end of [**annabeth**](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/profile) for a tumblr meme. Edited a little bit from its original tumblr form.
> 
> Title from "Bring It On Home," by Led Zeppelin. Not sure if it fits, but it was the first thing that came to my mind, so.
> 
> Also there is unresolved tension. Might be sexual, might be romantic. Might just be tension. Shrug.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

After Brad pulls into Nik’s driveway and he kills the engine, they just sit in the car together.  It’s quiet, a little too quiet for Brad’s liking.  He can’t distract himself now, like he could earlier at the bar. 

Nik looks up at the moon through the moon roof, a sloppy, drunken smile on his face as he sways against the car door.

“We’re here,” Brad points out rather unnecessarily.  Or maybe not, considering how drunk Nik still is.

Nik looks at him, still smiling loopily.  “I know.”

Brad smiles, unsure of what to do next, and Nik smiles back.  It’s so awkward between them now.  Could a year apart really have changed them so much?  Nik had been his best friend on the team, and now Brad feels like they barely know each other.  Then again, he should have expected this.  Their paths had diverged after Kenny traded him back to San José.  

Brad wonders what their friendship might be like if he’d decided to stay, and then quickly banishes the thought. It’s not important anymore, no use to wonder what might have—could have—been.  He has Melissa and the kids.  That’s all he needs.

Brad looks away.  “I guess this is it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nik says, but doesn’t move to open the car door. His tone is soft and gentle, a funny contrast to the way he plays on the ice. Brad tries not to think about it too much.

Finally, he says, “You’re gonna have to get out of my car at some point.”

“I know,” Nik says.  He makes no move to leave, though, head tipped back against the headrest.  Brad watches the line of his throat, the way the muscles shift under his skin when he swallows.

Nik continues to stare unseeingly out the windshield, and Brad wonders for a moment if he’s passed out or something.  Just as he’s about to reach out and poke Nik, inspect him for signs of life, Nik turns and wraps Brad up in a big, unexpected one-armed hug.

Brad pats Nik on the chest and laughs.  “Forgot you were such a sentimental drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk anymore,” Nik says, pushing his face against Brad’s neck, squeezing him, seemingly reluctant to let go.  

Brad closes his eyes, counts _1-2-3_ , and prepares to extract himself, but Nik lets go first.

Nik pinches his thumb and forefinger together.  “Maybe just a little bit.”

“Alright, go on. Get out of here. I gotta get back to the hotel,” Brad says, reaching over and wrapping a hand around Nik’s knee. 

It’s a strange, overly touch-y gesture, Brad knows, and he can’t pass it off as him being drunk because he’s not. He was never this sentimental when they were teammates, when Nik was just a locker stall away, but Nik doesn’t call him out on the sudden burst of sentimentality. Brad exhales and pulls his hand away.

Nik lets himself out and waves before turning and heading up the driveway for his home.

Brad drives back to the team’s hotel, feeling unsettled and itchy, like his skin doesn’t quite fit him right anymore.  

He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and speed-dials Melissa, knowing she’s probably still awake back home.

“Hey, honey, everything okay?” She sounds startled, worried that he’s calling her this late. A quick glance at the clock tells him it’s a little bit past midnight in San José.

“Yeah, I’m good.  Are the boys still up?  Put them on, I wanna tell them ‘goodnight,’ ” he says.

Melissa laughs, apologetically.  “I just put them down.  You want me to wake them up for you?”

“Nah,” Brad says, smiling a little.  Melissa laughs again, gently, and he starts to feel more like himself.  “I’ll call you in the morning, babe.”

“ ’Night, sweetie.”

Brad ends the call and tucks the phone back in his pocket, the sound of Melissa’s laughter still in his ear, grounding him, bringing him home.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
